Mystery Science Theater 3000: APOCAGEDDON
by Robyn
Summary: A MST3K story. What if Dr. Forrester found the Worst Movie Ever Made and succeeded in taking over the world? I think it would go a little something...like this.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Oh boy, here we go. Okay first thing's first: I know the title is retarded. When I think of something better I'll change it. This is an AU, an apocalypse AU, so some stuff might not make sense at first but bear with me. Special thanks to Kat for her ideas and encouragement and to the three and a half people who showed interest in this. MST3K does not belong to me, all credit (and apologies) go to Best Brains.

_My name is Joel Robinson. If you're reading this, I'm already dead._

_Probably. I mean, okay, I realize that's kind of a big assumption to make, but you have to understand my situation. As I write this, I can see my goal in the distance, a dark tower sitting on the horizon like some kind of big…evil…thing (sorry, I'm no good with words). On foot, it'll take me a few days to get there, at least. I honestly don't know if I'll survive those days._

_Though now that I think about it, maybe I'm alive and you're reading this journal while I'm in the john or something. In that case, shame on you. It says "PRIVATE" on the cover for a reason, jerk. I turn my back for five minutes and you start rifling through my things who do you think_

_Okay I'm getting off-subject. I'm writing this because there are plenty of people who still don't understand what happened. I'm still trying to piece it together myself._

_It was 1989 when Dr. Forrester shot me into space for no good reason. Well, there were reasons, but they changed every time I asked him. Because he didn't like me. He was bored and he had a spare spaceship. To take over the world…with bad movies….somehow. And you know, even after being forced to watch some truly awful movies, the idea was funny to me. I mean, what a silly premise, who would BUY that?_

_But no one was laughing when Forrester finally made his move._

_I was in Australia at the time, having escaped some years before. I was working in some little diner in the middle of nowhere, trying to make enough scratch to get back to the States. One day we heard reports of a giant black tower appearing overnight in the middle of Wisconsin. Which, if you've never been, is unusual for the area._

_This probably wouldn't have made the news at all (certainly not global news, maybe a passing mention in_ The Milwaukee Journal_), except that along with the tower, a SPACESHIP had also appeared, hovering some hundred feet over the tower. A very familiar spaceship. That's when I started to get a bad feeling._

_Then the diner's TV died. Every channel appeared as static. Radio, too. The world wide web was still working, though, and a quick glance revealed that it wasn't just us, it was happening everywhere, all over the world. This was terrible, of course, because it meant no one was going to get to see the newest episode of _Charles in Charge_, but I had a feeling something even worse was coming._

_Looking back, I guess I should've tried to warn others, even if I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but really, what could I have possibly said? When I told people I was shot into space by some mad scientists and forced to watch terrible movies with my robot friends, they thought I was nuts (I can't imagine why), so I had doubts that I would change any minds. I felt like Noah just before the flood. I had no ark, but I had the company van, so I grabbed two of every Pop Tart and got the hell out of Dodge._

_I camped out in the wilderness for about two weeks. I would've stayed longer but I ran out of Pringles. But as it turned out, two weeks was all it took. I returned to the diner to find it deserted, left in ruins, as were the surrounding buildings. In fact, the only thing standing was the television, which had been left on. I kept my distance. Somehow, I knew that there was a movie playing on the screen. And I knew if I looked, it would be the last movie I'd ever see. I_

Joel Robinson suddenly looked up, snapping his journal shut. He listened. Did he hear someone or some_thing_ slowly moving through the brush towards him, or was it just his imagination? Suddenly paranoid, he stomped out the small campfire with his boot, now regretting starting it in the first place. Post-Apocalyptic Wisconsin was bitterly cold (okay, you could say that about Pre-Apocalypse Wisconsin too), but it really wasn't an excuse to risk getting killed...or worse.

He snatched his rifle and slowly stood up, flattening himself against the tree he'd been sitting under. The sun was setting, the trees made dark silhouettes in the fading light. It was quiet. Maybe it WAS just his imagination. Joel sighed, trying to calm himself. He began to quietly whistle:

_Whenever I feel afraid,_

_I hold my head erect_

_And whistle a happy tune,_

_So no one will suspect_

_I'm afraid…_

"Oh good, I thought I'd never find you in this dark – "

"AAAAHHH" Joel whipped around, flailing. The point of his gun smacked something hard and he heard a yelp. When he had regained his balance, he could see a man crouched on the ground before him, holding his head in pain.

"Don't DO that!" Joel snapped, flustered. Then he saw what the man was wearing – a crisp green jumpsuit with a gold "F" emblazoned on the front – and his face became grim. He aimed his gun.

"Owww…" The man looked up. In contrast to his uniform, the man's face was dirty and scarred. He was unshaven and his hair was wild. When he saw the gun, his eye (he was wearing an eyepatch too) widened and he raised his hands.

"Whoa WHOA WAIT"

"The last guy wearing a uniform like that tried to kill me. I put him in the ground."

(That last bit was a lie, but it sounded pretty cool in Joel's head.)

"Yeah okay, first of all, it's kinda hard to take you seriously when you're wearing those goggles."

Joel frowned and pushed said goggles off his face so that they sat above his eyes. "What's wrong with my goggles?"

"They're _pink_."

"Yeah, well…whatever, 'least I'm not a minion of evil!"

"I'm NOT, okay? I was a prisoner in the tower, I JUST escaped, I got this outfit off a guard!"

The man yanked up his pantleg so Joel could see the large shackle around the man's right ankle. There was a broken chain hanging off of it.

"Oh, well…" Joel lowered his gun. "Well, that's cool. How'd you escape?"

"Knocked out a guard, used his raygun to break the chain, took his uniform, that kinda thing."

"Nice. Did you lure him over with the 'sick prisoner' routine?"

"Heh, unfortunately, not even Dr. F's guys are dumb enough to fall for that."

Joel chuckled, something, he realized, he hadn't done in what seemed like forever. "Hey wait…you have a raygun?"

"Ah, well, I _did_," the man said, sounding embarrassed, "but I kinda lost it."

"You lost it?"

"Well, more accurately, it was eaten. By a mutant."

"Eaten by a _what_?"

"A mutant. You haven't seen any yet? You'll see 'em if you hang out around here long enough, Dr. F's always conjuring up all kinds of freaks and setting them loose. You're not from around here, huh?"

"Well, no. I mean, I used to be. Before, you know…" Joel gestured in the direction of the tower, "_that_. I was gone for a while."

"My advice? Go back to wherever you came from."

"Not yet. I'm looking for some robots."

The man snorted. "You'll find plenty of them as you get closer to the tower, though that's a quick way to get vaporized."

"Not Forrester's killer robots, I mean…uh, hang on." Joel pulled out his wallet. There was little use for cash in Dr. Forrester's world, but this wallet held something more precious to Joel than money.

He flipped it open so the man could see the photo inside. It was a picture of a younger, sleepier Joel, on the bridge of the Satellite of Love, surrounded by his robot "family," Gypsy, Crow, and Tom Servo. Cambot, of course, was the one who took the picture (Joel always regretted not getting more pictures of Cambot when he had the chance).

"Oh my God," the man said, staring at the photo, "today really is a day of miracles."

"Wh-what?"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered, worn photo. It had been folded and unfolded many times. He flattened it out as best he could and held it up to Joel.

It was the same scene, with the same robots. But there was a different man now, a smiling blonde man with bright blue-green eyes. Amazed, Joel looked from the photo to the man's face to see the same eyes (well, eye) staring back at him.

"Holy cow," Joel muttered, "you're – "

"Mike Nelson," the man said with a grin, "it's nice to finally meet you, Joel."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This IS "Mstiepocalypse", but I changed the title. It's still silly but I like how it rolls off the tongue. Besides, every time I see "Mstiepocalypse" I think "Metalocalypse" and that's just confusing. Sorry this took so long, for those who care, hopefully it was worth the wait.

Joel grabbed Mike by the shoulders. "The Bots, I gotta know, are they okay? Are they still on the SOL? Did Tom remember to wear his retainer??"

But before Mike could answer any of these questions, a horrible cry filled the air. It sounded a little like a pig being thrown into a woodchipper. And the woodchipper was in hell.

"Oh no," Mike said, his face lined with panic, "it caught up with me!"

"Wh-what? What is that!?"

Suddenly the source of the racket came crashing through the trees. At first glance it looked like a normal pig (well, besides the fact that it was about the size of a Volkswagen), but a closer look revealed that the creature had a large fishtail coming out of its backside. It also had gills, which you'd think would prompt someone to ask how such a thing could survive on land, but honestly you just don't think of these things when you're faced with a giant pig/fish mutant. It snorted and glared at Joel and Mike with wild eyes.

Joel stared in amazement. "Forrester made that!?"

"No Joel, the giant murderous pigfish has always been part of the fauna of the great state of Wisconsin," Mike said sarcastically. "What are you waiting for!? Shoot it!"

"I-I can't! I ran out of ammo three weeks ago!"

"What!?"

The mutant made another pig-in-the-hell-woodchipper cry and charged towards our heroes.

"RUN!"

So they fled, darting through the forest as fast as they could with the creature hot on their heels.

"So lemmie get this straight," Mike said as they ran, "you wandered into Forrester territory with a useless gun!?"

"Oh bite me, everywhere is Forrester territory now! And at least I didn't let my gun get eaten by a freaking pig!"

"You know, I don't have to outrun the mutant, I only have to outrun you."

They suddenly broke through the edge of the forest and found themselves in a large field. They paused here, unsure if they should continue out into the field, or turn back and try losing the mutant in the forest. Just as Joel was wondering if pigfish mutants could climb trees, Mike pointed. "Look!"

Joel looked and saw, in the distance, a small cluster of rundown houses along a winding dirt road. Joel looked at Mike, and their eyes met.

"Think we can make it?" Mike asked.

Joel could see Mike was thinking the same thing as him: the mutant, because of its massive body, couldn't get through the forest as quickly as its prey. Out on the field, it would have no obstacles. Behind them, they could hear wood splinter and snap as the creature came closer.

"We'll have to risk it," Joel said. "Ready?"

"No. But let's do it anyway."

They bolted. As they ran, Joel noticed that there were clusters of tiny orange and purple flowers dotting the field. Pretty. This wouldn't be a bad place to die, at least, Joel thought.

But he couldn't die yet. Not when he was so close. Not when he'd found quite possibly the only man who could help him. Determined, he grit his teeth and focused his attention on the nearest building.

He was so focused that didn't see the upturned root lying in the grass until it caught hold of his foot and sent him face-first towards the ground. This might have been the end of the story right here (at the very least, it would be the end of Joel's story) but he had only just barely tasted dirt before he was suddenly facing air again.

Mike had been running a little distance behind Joel, at a disadvantage thanks to his shackle. But as he flew past Joel, he grabbed the falling man by the arm with one strong hand and yanked him off the ground with an alarming amount of strength and speed, to the point that Joel feared his arm would pop out of its socket. But it didn't, and Joel's feet somehow found the ground again and continued his flight.

They made it the nearest building, a gas station, with no further misadventures. It was a small, vintage-looking station, with only two pumps. The door of the nearby building was not locked, and it opened without resistance.

The place was a wreck. Looking around, Joel guessed this has been some kind of inn or bed and breakfast, but that had been a long time ago. It was abandoned now, picked clean of any food or useful supplies. All that remained was some broken furniture and tacky wallpaper. Joel slammed the door shut and fumbled with the doorknob for a moment. "No lock!"

Mike's voice came from behind him: "Move out of the way!"

Joel did so, and a large desk came sliding across the room and crashed into the door. Joel turned to see Mike shaking a few remaining paperbacks out of a bookshelf and lifting it off the floor. With a grunt, he heaved the bookshelf so it landed on the desk.

Feeling somewhat inadequate, Joel picked up a chair and propped it against the makeshift barricade. Somewhere in the back of his panicked mind, it occurred to him that while Mike was a big guy, he really should not be strong enough to pick up a full-grown man with one hand, nor be able to juggle furniture without breaking a sweat. But this train of thought was interrupted by a tremendous THUD. The building rattled on its foundations. A furious snorting could be heard outside. Joel backed away from the door. Another THUD. In the next room, something fell to the floor and shattered.

"That door won't hold for long," Mike said. "If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

Joel looked desperately around the room, trying to find something that could be used as a weapon against the beast. In his search, a broken window caught his eye.

"Actually," Joel said slowly, "I think I have a plan."

"Really!?" Mike sounded surprised. "I mean, that's awesome. Plans are good, I love plans, lay it on me."

"We let the mutant in."

"Joel, your plan sucks."

"Trust me," Joel said with a grin. "Here's what we do…"

One minute and twenty-three seconds later, the pigfish came crashing through the door, crushing the barricade beneath its hooves. It searched the room with beady eyes and saw no sign of its prey. But their scent was still fresh, so the mutant shoved its massive snout forward as it pushed its head through the small doorway.

"NOW!"

Joel and Mike suddenly appeared from behind an overturned table. Mike chucked a rusty hot plate at the mutant' while Joel scrambled through the window as fast as he could. The hot plate smacked the mutant in the face and it squealed in pain. Blind with rage, it stormed into the building as Mike dove through the window after Joel. The mutant tried to back up so it could continue its chase, but it had wedged its massive body in the doorway so tight it couldn't move either direction. It let out a furious shrieking squeal as it struggled.

Meanwhile, Joel and Mike ran to the front of the building, where they could see the mutant's backside sticking out of the door. Its massive tail thrashed wildly, smacking the walls of the building, causing them to crack and splinter.

"We better hurry," Mike gasped as he approached one of the gas pumps. He grabbed its nozzle and yanked out the hose. Gasoline began to spill onto the ground. He dragged the hose behind him as he hurried down the dirt road, gasoline trickling from the broken hose. Joel ran beside him, rummaging around in one of the pouches on his belt.

The hose was emptied completely a small distance away from the station. Mike tossed it aside. Joel had found what he was looking for – his lighter. He slipped his goggles over his eyes and knelt by the trail of gasoline left by the hose.

"Okay," Joel said, his throat dry, "get ready to run."

He put the lighter as close to the gasoline as he dared, already wincing at imagined heat. He flicked the lighter.

click

Nothing. Joel frowned. Dangit, this was really not the time…

click click click

"Uh, Joel?"

click click click click

"Uh, Joel," Mike's voice was steady but a few octaves higher than usual, "I don't mean to rush you –"

There was a crash as the roof of the building suddenly caved in. The mutant shrugged off debris, nearly free of its wooden prison.

"– but could you please freaking hurry!??"

-

FWOOM

Finally the lighter struck a flame. Joel stumbled back as the flame caught hold of the gasoline in the dirt and danced along the trail back to the gas station.

"GuhguhguhguhGOOOOOGOGOGOGO" Joel cried as he leapt to his feet. They fled down the road as fast as they could. The mutant knocked the walls of the building down and snorted around, searching for its prey. It never saw the flames hit the gas pump.

Joel and Mike resisted the strange urge to walk in slow motion away from the explosion and instead hit the ground, covering their heads. Fortunately the explosion was fairly small, but the shockwave was enough to shatter the remaining glass in the windows of the nearby houses.

Once it seemed the worst had passed, Joel slowly raised his head. The gas station was completely engulfed in flames now. Mike groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.

"Hey, you okay?" Joel asked.

"Yeah, fine, just fine," Mike said, panting. He grinned at Joel. "Okay, I admit it, your plan didn't suck after all. One question though, how did you know those pumps would still have gas after all this time?"

"I uh…" Joel looked sheepish, "I didn't."

"W-what? What were we supposed to do if there wasn't any!?"

"Honestly I didn't think that far ahead. Good thing we got lucky, huh?"

"You –!" Mike sputtered, shoving Joel hard. "I take it back, your plan totally sucked!"

"Ow, hey!" Joel shoved him back. "Yeah well, I didn't see you coming up with any ideas, mister!"

"Oh I HAD an idea, it involved feeding you to the mutant with fava beans and a nice Chianti!"

They lay there on the ground for a moment, glaring at each other. The edges of Joel's lips twitched. Mike snorted. Soon they were laughing, louder than either of them had laughed in years.

A/N: Uggh this stupid chapter. I hate writing action scenes. Sorry there aren't a whole lot of answers in this chapter, that comes later. :3 Btw, the mutant is a reference to #702 The Brute Man, where Dr. Forrester is quietly sewing the head of a pig to the body of a fish. Clearly he's advanced since then. 8B


End file.
